


Further on the Edge

by brandyllyn



Category: Trouble in the Heights (2011)
Genre: Angry Sex, Blow Jobs, Car Sex, Desk Sex, Drug Use, F/M, Fighting Kink, Fingering, Hand Jobs, Minor Violence, Motorcycles, Rape/Non-con Elements, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, a little bit pwp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-17 17:48:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 20,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3538502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandyllyn/pseuds/brandyllyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Nevada smiled at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling and she found herself thinking that he was actually kind of handsome, in a sexy “I’ll kill you for disrespecting me” sort of a way. Which was to say not at all. Not even a little. Her nipples were always this hard. Dammit why did she have to have a type?"</p><p>Drawn together by circumstance - Nevada meets a woman who gives him a run for his money. But she's not quite what she presents herself to him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> While there is ostensibly a plot it's mostly a character study and porn while I worked through some issues on my (much longer) fic 'Debt Makes Promises'. You should check that out.

“Whoa, now she is beautiful,” Nevada breathed, licking his lips as he ran his eyes over the curves of her body. “Great lines, smooth,” he trailed a line over her, noticing the way she trembled under his fingertip.

“So this is it? This would make us even? Can we make a deal?” the kid in front of him was nervously fidgeting, his eyes darting between her and Nevada.

“You’re really going to give her up?”

The kid flinched at the word, “Borrow. You can borrow.”

“Collateral?” Nevada mused, “I don’t usually allow that but…” he trailed off, imagining the ride if he took her.

The kid seemed agitated, “It has to be short-term. I can’t sell-“ he stopped himself.

“You’re not selling, you’re _giving_. Let’s be perfectly clear here.” Nevada chuckled, “You give me her and we can talk about ways you can clear your debt that don’t involve you dying. How’s that for a deal?”

Nevada laid his hand on the soft leather that covered her, noting the way the kid flinched away from him again. 

He flipped the engine cutoff and listened regretfully as the engine died, pocketing the key. The new Ninja H2 unless he missed his guess, not bothering to ask the kid who had barely managed to back her the curb without dropping her. One of Nevada’s men had to jump in and rescue the poor thing when the kid forgot to put the kickstand down as he got off. A nice bike, a _very_ nice bike. And he’d been without since crashing his Hayabusa into a MiniCooper six months ago. The bike had fared better than the car had, but was still useless. He’d been lucky to walk away from that with no more than bruises.

He led the kid away, didn’t need him re-thinking the deal he had just made. Behind him, the Ninja sat sitting, waiting. He’d be back he silently promised it. He smiled to himself, oh he’d definitely be back.

 

* * *

 

Charlie leaned over the man in the drivers seat - staring out the window. She was dressed head to toe in black, her motorcycle leathers hugging her body. She tapped her fingers on top of the helmet in her lap, studying her idiot cousin down the street and the older man he was talking to. Oh no, he wasn’t doing what she thought he was doing.

He handed the man her keys.

That _motherfucker_.

Her hand smacked against the driver’s chest in frustration and she heard him make a low squeak.

The man her cousin was talking to, dressed all in black just like her she noted, put the keys in the ignition, shifting the bike to neutral before turning her on. Charlie fancied she could hear her baby purring from where she sat, a block away. He was touching her, stroking along the gas tank, his fingertips trailing lightly along the black finish.

She growled.

He turned the engine off and moved away from the bike. Her cousin Rico and the man shook hands, the older man swinging an arm around that bike-stealing moron. “Get me over there,” she told him.

“Charlie are you sure-?”

She pinched him, he was only sixteen, still too young to be backtalking her. “Pull up, I’ll grab her - wait for me just in case and then you take off east. I’ll go west. You got it?”

“I don’t think-“

“Don’t think,” she ordered. “Just get me over there.”

He edged down the street, his headlights lighting the street nearly empty of cars. Charlie kept her eyes on the men on the sidewalk, pulling the matte black helmet over her close-cropped hair and buckling it with a practiced motion. She flipped the tinted visor down, making sure her face was covered. The men were still closer than she might have liked but she didn’t have time to see if they’d move farther. She couldn’t risk them taking her baby somewhere she couldn’t get her back.

Coming up alongside, Charlie smoothly slid out the door, ducking behind the car and crossing to where her bike waited. Her spare keys were in her hand and she was on the bike, ignition firing and kicking her into first before anyone had time to process she was there. She heard shouting behind her but ignored it, feeling Tasha rumble to life between her thighs as she pulled from the curb. She nodded at John who took off east and she pushed Tasha up through second, third - ignoring the no turn on red sign and taking the corner fast enough and sharp enough that she felt the tires slide beneath her.

She slowed slightly as she approached the next light, a line of cars blocking her way. Checking her mirror she saw a big black SUV take the corner, tires screeching. The man in black was in the passenger seat, shouting at someone and gesturing at her.

_Fuck_.

She spun the throttle, darting between the line of waiting cars. When the light turned she pulled forward, one eye on the road the other the mirror. She only needed to get about a mile but the traffic on the street was heavier than she had guessed it would be. Her eyes watched the vehicle behind her anxiously for a glint of metal.

The reinforced kevlar under her leathers might have saved her skin in a crash, but she was pretty sure it wouldn’t stop a bullet. She stayed low over the gas tank, counting on his unwillingness to shoot into to traffic to stop him from firing on her. Assuming he had a gun. He seemed the type. She glanced into the side mirror again, that black SUV was keeping up impressively well all things considered.

She smiled to herself. Tasha was still only in 4th gear, the engine underneath her practically bursting with the desire to kick it higher. 

“Wait for it…” she whispered, leaning into the next turn. The sign for the Hudson Parkway rose in front of her and she smoothly shifted to fifth, feeling the engine open up. She took the wide turn at eighty, hearing the whine of her motorcycle begging her take the leash off. “Let’s go baby,” she said and swiftly toed her up into sixth, the engine catching as she slid past ninety, a hundred, one ten. Darting between the other vehicles who seemed to be at a standstill. 

Glancing down, she watched the SUV recede behind her. She sighed in relief, continuing until she couldn’t see the headlights anymore. Smiling to herself she eased off the throttle slightly. 

Not much though, Tasha needed to stretch her legs after having that man’s hands all over her. There was going to be hell to pay, she just knew it, but as the road unfurled before she just couldn’t bring herself to care.

 

* * *

 

 “God fucking _dammit_ ,” Nevada yelled as the motorcycle sped away from them. Between the traffic and the bike’s speed they were never going to catch up. He punched the dashboard, ignoring the pain that flared in this knuckles as he did so. “How the fuck do you not catch him?”

Alex, who was driving, didn’t answer and he felt his jaw clench as he watched the single tail light vanish into traffic.

In the backseat, that kid, Rico, was babbling. Something about how he tried to pay - it wasn’t his fault if it got stolen. They had shook on it and everything. Nevada shut him up with a wave of his hand. If the kid had even the slightest pair of balls on him he might suspect that the whole thing had been staged. But he’d practically pissed himself just standing next to Nevada, no way he pulled off tricking him too.

He tapped his fingers together, staring off into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

When she opened the door a few days later to see her cousin Rico standing there Charlie punched him in the face before she really had time to process it. He hit the floor, crying out and holding his nose. 

“Wha da fuk wad dat forb?”

“You son of a _bitch_ ,” she stared down at him, still holding her apartment door open.

“Chalie you don understan, he ib going to _kill_ be.”

“Jesus Christ,” she said, leaning down and grabbing him by the arm, pulling him into her tiny apartment.

“So thab where you keebing it.”

She shoved him away from the motorcycle parked in her hallway. “Well, yeah, after your little stunt I can’t keep her at the shop any more. What the _fuck_ were you thinking?”

He leaned his head back, “Can I hab a tibbue?”

“Fuck,” she muttered, pushing him towards her couch. “Do _not_ bleed on my stuff you got that?” After waiting for his nod she went into the other room, grabbing an old towel she used when she dyed her hair. When she came back, she saw him tenderly touching the bridge of his nose and she thrust the towel into his hands.

“I thing you brob my node,” he whined, looking at her pitifully over the stained cloth.

“Quit being such a baby, I did not.” She pushed a stack of clothes off the edge of the table and sat, leaning her elbows on her knees, “Now, how about you tell me why you were giving my bike away to some guy last night. And think really hard about your response or I _will_ break your nose. And probably some other things too.”

He muttered into the cloth, wiping at his face and then pressing it under his nose. “I owe Nebada Ramireb money. I don hab it.”

“Well that seems like a pretty big problem, but I’m still confused as to how this has become _my_ problem.”

“Can I hab some ith?”

“Ith?”

He stuck his jaw out, “Ice.”

She rolled her eyes, going to the kitchen and bringing back a handful and dropping it into the towel. 

“Thang you.”

She leaned forward again, “Rico, you have about ten seconds to answer my questions or so help me god…”

“I don hab the money! But Ramireb, he sometibes trabes. I gabe it to him as collaberall.”

“Collateral?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “that. Jus til I could pay him bab.”

She put a hand on his wrist, pulling the towel from his face and leaning in until her nose almost touched his, “And why the _fuck_ did you decide to give him _my_ bike?”

“I wab going to geb it bab! Jub a weebk. I thought you woulbn’t notib.”

“You thought I wouldn’t noticed you’d ‘borrowed’ Tasha for a week? God, I can’t believe Aunt Mags didn’t kill you in your sleep. How can you be this _stupid_?”

He started to say something else but she reached up and pinched the end of his nose, causing whatever he was going to say to turn into a howl of pain. 

“Does he know it’s my bike? Does he know my name?”

“No,” he shook his head, blinking back the tears in his eyes as he pressed the ice to his face. “He things some ribal of his grabbed it. He priddy piffed ob though.”

“Yeah, I bet,” she muttered, standing up and moving to lean against the wall. “Is he _going_ to find out whose bike it is?” 

Rico looked up at her, his eyes going wide at the menace in her voice. He shook his head, wincing at the motion, before saying, “Nod frob me. I’b learned by leffon. Bebides, he’s giben me an ebtension on the debt. Told me that ad least I tried.”

“Well,” her mouth enunciated the word as she gave him a mean smile, “at least that’s something.”  She leaned her head against the wall, shutting her eyes. There was a long pause in the room, punctuated by the low hum of the air conditioning unit in her window. Finally, he broke the silence.

“Ha dib you eben ged thab ub here?”

“What?” she didn’t bother looking at him.

Rico worked his jaw, trying to enunciate better, “How. Did you. Eben. Get your. Bibe. Up here?”

“Freight elevator,” she responded, with a look on her face that said he was a moron. “You think I pushed that thing up five flights of stairs?”


	3. Chapter 3

“I’m looking for a bike.”

Charlie sighed, dropping her wrench into the cloth by her foot and spinning herself on the low stool she was sitting on.

“We don’t sell bikes here, just fix them,” she called out as she rolled, wiping her hands on the cloth tucked in her pocket. She leaned to look around the edge of the bike next to her, taking in the four pairs of shoes in front of her. Three pairs of sneakers and one pair of snakeskin boots that probably cost what she made in a month. She brushed her hand through her hair, ruffling part of it straight up she knew from experience, and looked up at the man who asked the question.

_Fuck_.

It was him, the guy Rico was in debt with. Montana or something like that. Did he…? No, his chin was too low for him to be looking at her face. Either he hadn’t looked at her yet or he didn’t recognize her. 

And why should he? She’d been covered head to foot that night. She breathed deeply, feeling the thin cotton of her white shirt brush against her nipples and thanking god that every bra she owned - all three of them - was currently hanging to dry on her shower curtain. The more distracted he was right now the better. She didn’t have a lot to offer, but apparently it was enough.

She put a hand on the bike beside her and stood, reaching up to fix her hair and tuck a strand away from where it fell across her eyes. “Hey?” she said, interrupting his frank perusal of her body, “I said we don’t sell bikes. Try the Harley dealership in Brooklyn.” She turned, bending at the waist instead of squatting to pull the dropcloth up and set it on her workbench. Glancing back his eyes were glued to her ass in the tight jeans.

“I don’t want to buy one, I’m trying to find one,” he clarified, pushing his sunglasses onto his forehead.

“What kind?” she tried not to sound to interested.

“A black one,” he said and she snorted.

“Seriously?” she leaned against the bike, wiping her hands on her jeans and the folding her arms under her breasts, “A black one? What kind of description is that? Sport bike? Cafe Racer? Touring?”

His eyes were on her tits again and she settled her arms more firmly under them, making sure they were pressed up as much as possible. On display if she was being completely honest. “2015 Ninja H2, custom matte black paint job. Has it been through here?”

She glanced at the three men spread out behind him, muscle she supposed. If they were intended to be intimidating they weren’t doing a great job. The guy on the far left looked slow, she wouldn’t need to worry about him and the guy in the middle stood like a middle schooler - she doubted he’d ever been in a fight in his life despite his size - or more likely because of it. She turned her attention back to their leader and saw he was staring at her face now. She raised one eyebrow, “Why do you need to know?”

“Someone stole it from me,” he growled.

“Oh well,” she snorted, pushing away herself from her stool and brushing by him as she walked towards the office, “then best of luck to you. If it’s been more than a day odds are it’s been scrapped for parts by now. You’re better off cutting your losses, getting something new.” She popped her head around the door, “I’ve got a sweet line on a brand new BMW1000RR if you’re looking.”

“I’m not looking for a bike, I want _my_ bike.” He followed her to the office, leaning agains the doorframe as she looked through the stacks of papers. “Do you know anyone who has a new Ninja? Maybe a customer who’s been looking a little out of sorts lately?”

She shook her head, holding up a stack of invoices at him, “Not that I recall, they’re pretty common though so I’m not sure I’d remember.”

He studied her and she set the invoices down, moving towards him and noting with amusement that he didn’t budge from his position at the door, forcing her to squeeze against him if she wanted to get by. She stopped halfway, her body pressed against his, looking up at him even in her thick-heeled work boots. “Anything else?”

“Are you always this impolite to customers?” He put his hand up on the door frame behind her, between her and her exit, leaning forward so his nose was mere inches from hers.

She smirked, chuckling softly, “Well my apologies. What business are you bringing me?”

He smiled at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling and she found herself thinking that he was actually kind of handsome, in a sexy ‘I’ll kill you for disrespecting me’ sort of a way. Which was to say not at all. Not even a little. Her nipples were always this hard. Dammit why did she have to have a type?

His gaze flickered down when hers did and the smile on his face became a smirk, “Maybe you and I can talk our own sort of business cariño?”

She ducked under his arm, “I’ve got to get the transmission on that thing put back in by the end of today, so as flattered as I am if you’re not here to drop something off or pick something up then I’ll have to ask you to move along.”

Green eyes were considering as he motioned his gang towards the large bay door - open to let the summer light in. She went back to her stool, pulling the dropcloth with her tools into her lap. Stepping into the sunlight he flipped his sunglasses down and stared into the sky for a moment before she heard his voice, “Which one is yours?”

“What?” she looked up at him.

He turned back to her, gesturing into the shop, “The bikes, one of them yours?”

She met his eyes as she pointed at the old Yamaha in the corner, “That one.”

His brows drew together, “Bit of a fixer-upper.”

“I like a challenge,” she smiled at him.

He smiled back before leaving. Once he was out of sight she sagged against wooden legs of her workbench. It rolled backwards and she caught herself. “Dammit,” she muttered, already making mental lists of everyone she would need to talk to about her bike. If he was asking around about it then it wouldn’t take long for someone to slip up. Jules, the shop owner for one - she’d have to call him now. Jose at the corner bodega. Maybe another half dozen people - if she didn’t count the people she didn’t know who might still know enough about bikes to identify hers. 

Fuck, she was screwed.


	4. Chapter 4

Nevada rubbed his thumb thoughtfully on his lower lip as he stared out the window of the Escalade. That had been, informative. After asking around a bit everyone in the Heights agreed that if you weren’t going to take your bike to Giovanni’s on 143rd \- where Nevada took his own when he had one - then Jules’ up on 204th was the place to go. It was a hole in the wall, only kept afloat because Jules’ family had owned the building for fifty years and he lived above the shop - but they did solid work.

He’s walked in expecting to see a wrinkly old guy, just like he did at his regular. Instead, he’d found a woman alone, with hair even shorter than his and lips painted red. He could see the line of her thong her jeans were so tight and he swore he could see the color of her nipples through her shirt. She was sex in combat boots and he’d have gladly thrown her on the nearest table and fucked her brains out if he’d thought she wouldn’t have brained him with a wrench for trying. 

And that wasn’t even touching on the tattoos. 

He didn’t like tattoos on women, preferred the sight of pure unblemished skin, but there was something erotic about the art crawling up the woman’s arm, disappearing under the sleeve of her white tee only to reappear at her neck. Her other arm had ink as well, words he couldn’t quite make out running in lines around her wrist.

That much ink meant a lot of time under the needle - a strong tolerance for pain in the pursuit of pleasure. He could appreciate that -and so not a wasted trip after all.

He watched the cars drift by outside of the window. He was going to find the man who stole his bike, and he was going to do very slow, painful things to him.

He smiled to himself - it had been so long since he’d last had a chance to have some well-earned fun.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Charlie had an idea. It wasn’t a great idea but all things considered it was the best she had. She checked herself in the mirror, her bright red lipstick matched the red flowers on the edge of her sleeveless dress. The skirt hit mid-thigh, ruffling slightly when she moved. The top stretched up to a halter neckline, but was split offering a thin stripe of skin from her navel to neck in the front, and several inches of the same down her spine in the back. 

Her cherry blossom tattoo peaked through the back and she nodded at herself approvingly, slipping her phone into her pocket and stepping into her ankle boots before dropping her ID, her credit card and her spare key inside one, next to her ankle. There, she was ready.

She’d thought he’d have been harder to find, seemed like a drug kingpin would want to stay on the down low - but the third guy hanging at the street corner that she had asked pointed her towards a club, right before trying to sell her some cocaine. She’d demurred, not really interested, at least for the moment. Judging from his watch and four hundred dollar sneakers she probably couldn’t afford his prices anyway.

The club was in full swing by the time she got there, pushing her way through the crowd. Some guy tried to dance with her but a look at her face and he backed off. She moved towards the bar, stepping up on the rung to get a better view of the crowd. There he was, in a corner area above and separate from the main dance floor. A waitress was leaning over him and he was tucking something into her cleavage. Charlie stepped down, keeping her eyes on him and making idle talk with the man next to her. 

She kept her eye on him for the next hour, waiting for her opportunity. When it came, she watched him get up and head to the bathroom, and she pushed herself away from the bar and strode in that direction. She waited, setting a timer on her phone with a best guess, and then ducked down the crowded hallway. 

There he was, coming towards her, his eyes on two people practically fucking against the wall. She pulled her shoulders back, running into him as squarely as she could, feeling her breasts push against his coat and lifting a hand to his chest, slipping into his jacket.

“Oh,” she said, looking up at him with what she hoped was wide-eyed apology. When she met his eyes she parted her lips. “Oh,” she sighed it, softer this time, before giving him a seductive smile, “it’s you.”

His eyes crinkled a bit at the corners before recognition lit them and he lifted his hand to press against hers on his chest, “And you.”

She licked her bottom lip, watching his eyes follow the movement, “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you-“ She was cut off by angry throat-clearing behind her.

“Move out the way yo.”

She sent a prayer of thanks to whatever god was watching out for her and stepped closer to Nevada, pressing her body to his as she she glanced over her shoulder, “Sorry, is this enough?” 

The man grumbled, pushing himself past and Nevada turned them, pressing her back to the wall and crowding in close to her. Even in her heels he was several inches taller than her and she tilted her head back to look up at him. His eyes drifted from her face, taking in the long line of skin exposed down her chest and she breathed a little deeper, feeling the silky material slip over her nipples. His nostrils flared.

His hand was still covering hers, the other arm propped next to her head and she began to softly rub her fingertip over his shirt. “We never were properly introduced,” she practically purred and cursed herself. She needed to tone it down.

His smile was dark and full of promise. “Nevada,” he leaned close to her, his breath hot against her cheek as he whispered into her ear. The husky word sent a frisson of pleasure straight to her cunt. She stopped herself from moaning a little. “And what do I call you dulzura?”

She turned her face towards his, their lips practically touching, “Charlie.”

“Charlie,” he repeated, drawing the word out. His fingers had begun tracing against the back of her hand, mimicking the motion of her own. 

She lifted her other hand, running the edge of his leather jacket between her thumb and forefinger, ending to rest at his shoulder. “Nice jacket.” It was lame, but it gave her the excuse to touch him.

He smiled at her, his green eyes staring into hers. “Who are you here with tonight?”

She took the leap, “You?”

His smile widened into a grin and he slowly licked his lips. “Perfect.”


	6. Chapter 6

Nevada slipped a hand around the woman’s waist and led her through the corridor to the VIP section. A quick flick of his fingers and the man and woman snuggled on the couch moved quickly. He sat, pulling her down with him and resting his arm on the couch behind her. She relaxed back, crossing her legs towards him and taking the drink he offered her.

He lit a cigarette, puffing on it a couple of time before turning to her. “What brings you out tonight, alone?”

She smiled, those red lips curling at the ends, “I’m not alone, I’m with you.”

He chuckled at the answer, “True I suppose. Delightfully so.” He slipped his hand onto her knee and watched her reach toward it, taking the cigarette and placing it between her lips. She shut her eyes when she blew the smoke out, a look of pure pleasure on her face and he devoured the sight hungrily. She turned her body towards him, slipping her hand with the cigarette to his neck. 

“And how is it you’re alone tonight as well?”

He reached up, taking the cigarette from her before answering, “Waiting for you obviously.” He delighted in the flush that stained her cheeks. Blushing? Or arousal? Either worked for him. The hand on the back of the couch reached up, tracing into the short hairs at the back of her head. She shivered and he did it again. “Why would a beautiful woman like you cut her hair so short?” he mused as she leaned into his touch, like a cat begging to be petted, he was happy to oblige.

“It keeps it out of my way,” she muttered and he brushed a longer piece in the front out of her eyes. She was watching his lips and he put the cigarette between them, taking a long drag and blowing it to the side. She seemed to be deciding on something and he waited patiently, his fingers still stroking into her hair. She leaned forward, one of her hands falling to rest high on his thigh and he felt his cock twitch against his pants.

“I have a confession,” she whispered conspiratorially.

He grinned at her, leaning in until their noses nearly touched. “Oh? And what is that?”

She licked her lips and he bit back a groan. “After we met the other day, I thought about you.”

He lifted an eyebrow, “Did you? And what did you think about?”

The hand at his neck slipped into his hair, stroking him the same way he was doing to her. “I went home that night, and I thought about your hands.”

His eyes were becoming unfocused, “My hands?”

She nodded, the hand on his thigh lightly moving against him, “I thought about your hands on my body, and how much I wanted to feel you. So I touched myself,” she paused, “touched myself and thought of you.” She leaned into him, her lips brushing his ear, “I came all over my fingers imagining they were yours.”

He was hard as a rock and he groaned low in his throat, his fingers catching in her hair as he held her still and moved his mouth to hers. Her tongue licked at him, running along his lips and he parted them, letting her slip inside. She was hot and smooth and eager and he quickly put the cigarette out so he could get both of his hands on her. She arched into his fingers and he moaned at how responsive she was to his touch.

Their tongues tangled together and he dropped his hand to her thigh, pulling her into his lap and she wrapped her arms around him, kissing him as though her life depended on it. 

His hand found its way beneath her skirt, sliding up the smooth bare skin to cup her ass. He could just feel the line of her thong with his fingertips. His other hand was on her chest, slipping into the conveniently placed slit on the front to cover her breast with his hand. It wasn’t large, barely enough for a handful, but her pleasured gasp into his mouth told him she was sensitive.

He was lost in the sensations and barely noticed the vibration on the back of his hand, something heavy in her skirt moving against him. He broke away from her, “The fuck is that?”

Her eyes were glassy, unfocused and she blinked at him a couple of times before she made a startled “oh” noise and pulled away from him, her hand sliding into her pocket. She glanced at the phone for a moment and Nevada contented himself with watching his hand move on her tit, lifting his wrist a little sideways so he could see his fingers tweak her nipple. She jumped against him and he did it again just for fun.

“I’m so sorry,” she pulled away even further. “I have to go.”

It took his brain a moment to process what she was saying. “ _What_?”

She looked apologetic, even as she slipped the phone back into her pocket and slid away from him, leaving his hands clutching in air. “It’s a family thing,” she was explaining but he wasn’t listening as he watched her stand from the couch.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

She looked at him, at the furious expression on his face, and then leaned over, running her fingers into his hair again and sitting down straddled across his lap. She pressed herself down against him and he arched up into her as her lips met his again. One hot, slow kiss later she pulled away, breathless. “I _am_ sorry. Raincheck?”

He nodded dumbly and watched her walk away from him, her ass shifting under the material of her skirt.


	7. Chapter 7

It took three days for him to come find her at the garage and she was starting to think she hadn’t made the impression on him she thought she had. She’d dressed for him every day, her favorite jeans tightly hugging her legs and making her ass look fantastic. Paired with her work boots - which couldn’t be helped - and soft t-shirts in varying colors she felt flattered her. It was still work so she didn’t have many options. She had paid careful attention to her makeup each day, something she was usually more blasé about, and when he strolled into the shop his eyes went straight to her lips and she said a silent thank you to the gods of makeup for her ‘Forbidden Red’ lip pencil.

“Can I help you?” Jules called out, coming out of his office. Charlie glanced up from under her eyelashes, trying to watch them without being too obvious as she worked on the low slung 1950 Black Hawk that Jules had owned for years. Just an oil change, she could do it in her sleep.

Nevada seemed to have to make an effort to tear his eyes off of her and she smiled to herself when he answered Jules, “I’m here to talk to her.”

Jules stood up straighter, “Now listen to me boy,” he started and Charlie leapt to her feet before he could say something stupid.

“It’s okay Jules,” she stepped forward, laying a hand on his arm and smiling up at him, “I know him.”

Jules muttered to himself and walked back to his office and she turned to face Nevada. He was wearing all black again and she wondered to herself if he ever actually wore anything else. She stepped closer to him, “I was beginning to think I wouldn’t see you.”

He chuckled, a low throaty sound that made her thighs clench, “Just busy. You have time?”

It was a question but his face said that there was only one answer. “I’m going on my lunch,” she called out, not taking her eyes from his face. He stepped to the side and she walked ahead of him, out the large bay doors and into the wide alley that connected the shop to the street. As soon as they were out of sight of the shop he grabbed her by the hips, lifting her against the brick wall and stepping between her thighs. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her fingers on his neck as he kissed her like a man starved.

When they came up for air Charlie was gasping, he was rolling his hips into the hers and she could feel the rough denim abrading her clit. She pulled him towards her. “I’m not wearing underwear,” she whispered in his ear and felt more than heard him groan, lowering her feet to the ground and slipping his hand down the front of her jeans. His fingers pressed against her for a moment before he pulled his hand out, quickly unbuttoning and unzipping before thrusting his hand back inside.

“You’re wet for me,” he growled in her ear and she nodded against his neck. His fingers pressed against her, slipping along her outer lips. She waited, waited for him to find her clit and then moaned “Nevada” into his ear. His lips came back to hers, his tongue thrusting inside as he began to flick his finger against her quickly and her orgasm washed over her within heartbeats. God, that hardly ever happened that fast. A bit of a testament to how attracted to him she was she supposed.

“Fuck,” she sighed as she came down, feeling him press his palm against her, “that was great.”

He grinned, looking very pleased with himself. And her. He pulled his fingers from her and set them against her lips, one eyebrow rising. She took them into her mouth, sucking on them and watching his face as she did so. She slid her tongue along him, staring into his eyes and briefly biting at the pad of his finger. She glanced down the alley. “Little public to return the favor…” she mused, her hand sliding down and over the cloth covering his cock.

He thrust into her hand, shutting his eyes as he growled, “Doesn’t bother me.”

She laughed, stopping herself when she saw the hard expression cross his face. Sucking his fingers back into her mouth she undid the buckle on his pants, slipping her hand inside and finding the hard, hot flesh. He pulled his fingers from her lips, his hand sliding behind her head to grip her hair as he pulled her head back.

“Maybe you want to put that mouth to better use?”

She swallowed hard. She was walking a dangerous line with him and knew it. Needed him to want her without getting bored with her. Keep him on the edge so when he inevitably found out who she was he’d have an outlet for his anger that wasn’t murder. That had been her brilliant idea. Once she calmed down and realized that in the grand scheme of things she was completely fucking screwed from the moment she took her bike back from him. There was no way she was going to get out of this unscathed - well one way but she refused that one on principle. So this was her plan, keep him panting after her - string him along for as long as possible until the shit inevitably hit the fan.The fact that he was sexy as hell just made it easier for her. And those hands…

She stroked her fingers along him, running her thumb over the head of his cock and smearing the precum against his skin. “I could,” she pitched her voice low, husky, “I could go down on my knees for you. Suck on your hard cock. Feel you slide against my tongue.” His eyes lost their edge, going unfocused again as she worked her hand on him a little faster, his hips thrusting into her hand. “Or you could pick me up right here, push you cock inside of me. Fuck me right against this wall in broad daylight where anyone could see us. Until I was screaming, begging you to come inside me.” She ran her tongue over her teeth, watching him watch her. “You’ve never been with a girl like me Papí, I have muscles you’ve never _dreamed_ of. I could ride you, squeeze you inside me as I take all of your big, beautiful _cock-_ “ on the last word he came in her hand, his eyes closing as he shuddered against her and she let a small, satisfied smile curl over her while he wasn’t watching.

She waited for him to come down - her show wasn’t finished yet. When he finally opened his eyes she pulled her hand from his pants, lifting it to her mouth and licking the line of cum that ran up her wrist and into her palm. She closed her eyes as she did so, moaning slightly and feeling him shift against her. When she opened them, his had clouded over again with lust.

“How long is your lunch?”

She smiled at him, “Not long enough for whatever you’re thinking.”

He looked like he was going to get angry again, his eyebrows drawing together before he relaxed, leaning down and laughing into her neck. “True. We’d need hours to get through what I’m thinking of.” He was biting against her and she leaned to the side to give him better access, “Come out with me tonight.”

It was an order, she knew it. He knew it. But she ignored the tone. “I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

She lifted her arms, twining them around his neck and kissing him. “ _Can’t_.”

“When then?”

She stayed noncommittal, giving him her phone number instead. When he walked away from her, down the alley towards the street. She watched him go, staring at his ass so that when he looked back he ‘caught’ her. He grinned and she made a show of blushing and being flustered. 

God, men were so easy.

 


	8. Chapter 8

The large underground space was rowdy by the time Nevada showed up with his boys. The crowd focused on two bloody men fighting in the rope circle in the middle. They shouted and jeered and Nevada pushed his way through to the find his contact. He wasn’t a fan of the noise, although he did enjoy the violence of it all, but it only took a moment for word to spread and the crowds to part ahead of him.

Sometimes, it was very good to be him.

When he finally spotted Desmond he was arguing heatedly with a small, familiar person next to him. A woman with short, dark hair. Charlie was in his face, as much as she could be considering she was barely more than five feet tall, and Desmond was pulling back from her in way the made Nevada think he might actually be afraid of her. Now that was interesting. 

“I don’t give a flying _fuck_ what the odds are, I came out here tonight and you’re telling me not one of the assholes is willing to go up against me?” 

Desmond held his hands up between himself and the woman, “No one here is dumb enough for that Charlie.”

Charlie fumed at him and as Nevada got to her side he noted the cloth wraps around her knuckles and wrists. 

“Looking for a fight amorcita?”

She shut her eyes, and he thought he saw her lips move as though she was saying something but no sound came out. She turned to him. “In vain it seems,” she smiled at him and he noticed that she shifted her shoulders back, squaring herself before looking up at him. She was wearing black legging, cut off at the knee and a blue sports bra. And nothing else except those black hand wraps. He could see part of yet another tattoo on her side- or actually the same one - on her ribcage and dipping into the band of her pants. And was that? Fuck her navel was pierced, some small charm hanging from it.

“I don’t recall ever seeing you here before?” it was half statement, half question from her and he raised an eyebrow as he held a hand out to Desmond.

“Nevada,” Desmond said, pulling him close into a side hug. “I’ve got your cash around back. You need anything? A drink? A girl?”

Charlie’s eyes twitched at that and Nevada smiled, “No no, I’m fine. Miguel will go with you. Help you count eh?”

Desmond looked at the larger man and nodded, “Of course,” and they both disappeared into the back.

Charlie shifted on her feet next to him and he looked down at her, “Something bothering you?”

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, her eyes on his face before she finally said, “I don’t - that is - I don’t usually like for guys to see me here, like this.”

His eyes drifted over the room full of men, he counted at least half a dozen with their eyes on her and he could appreciate why. She watched him scan the room and when he sardonically raised on eyebrow she huffed in response, “Not _them_ , but someone I might actually…”

He grinned at her, now that was interesting “Someone you might…?” he prompted and she laughed, a clear joyful sound he didn’t think he had ever heard before.

“You’re really not intimidated by me are you?” she laid one hand against his chest, the black wrap blending into his shirt. She seemed to enjoy the thought.

“Are you intimidated by me?” he asked in return, watching her face.

She seemed taken aback, “No. Should I be?”

He stepped closer to her, sliding a hand around her waist and pulling her close, “I am a very dangerous man amorcita. You would do well to have a little bit of fear.” He leaned down to kiss her, his lips just brushing hers before she spun from his grasp, her fist flying towards his face. He didn’t have time to react - had hardly processed the movement when she pulled herself short. Barely centimeters from his skin. She uncurled her fingers and gently brushed into his hair - her other fist up in guard position at her cheek.

He blinked at her as she pulled her hand back, settling into a loose fighter’s stance and dropping her hands to her sides. “Are you any good?”

She grinned, “I’m good.”

He laughed at that, “I’m sure you are.” He knew he sounded patronizing but it was difficult to imagine this tiny woman actually fighting anyone, nevertheless winning. 

She sighed, shoulders slumping and her lower lip stuck out a little, “You don’t believe me?” She glided up to him, slipping her hands beneath his jacket to rub her hands along his sides, “I have some moves I could show you. A jab. A _thrust_.”

This was more like it, he slipped a hand down to her ass. “I wouldn’t want to bruise that pretty skin of yours,” he said, lowering his head to suck along her neck and he heard her sigh as she moved her body closer to his.

“Sometimes the bruising can be the most fun,” she whispered and he felt himself go instantly, almost painfully, hard. He bit her neck, catching the skin between his teeth and sucking and he heard her breath catch, a soft erotic sound that made him start looking around for somewhere he could take her. She was moaning, clutching his sides beneath his shirt and he prayed for patience as he pulled away and cupped her face in his hands. 

Her eyes were dazed, unfocused, her lips parted and wet and he groaned as he leaned forward and kissed her. Her tongue slipped between his lips and tangled with his for a long moment before he moved away.

“Cariño, unless you want me to fuck you right here in front of everybody you need to let go of me _right now_.”

She made a disappointed noise and for a moment he thought she was going to tell him to go ahead and do it but she stepped back, her breasts moving with each of her heavy breaths. He let her face go as she pulled away, studying her as she raised her fingertips and gently touched her lips. She was staring at him with a look he didn’t recognize and he shook his head at her.

“Stay there for a moment,” he ordered, in the corner of his eye he could see Miguel and Desmond returning - Miguel with a large canvas bag in his hand.

“Are we good?” he asked and when Miguel nodded her turned to Desmond, “Pleasure doing business with you.”

He motioned Miguel out a head of him and slipped his arm around Charlie’s waist, guiding her up the stairs and out into the night.


	9. Chapter 9

Charlie dug her heels in as he led her towards his waiting vehicle. Her mind racing as she tried to come up with a scenario that didn’t involve her getting fucked in the backseat of an Escalade. It was still too soon, her plan was working - he was intrigued by her but not annoyed. Well, he hadn’t been annoyed. The look he was giving her right now was certainly somewhere between annoyed and ticked off.

“What’s the problem?” he asked, his fingers tight against the bare flesh of her abdomen and her mind raced for an answer that wasn’t the truth. Rico’s words echoing in her head ‘He’s going to kill me’.

She spun into him, grabbing him by the lapels of his coat and backing him into the exposed brick. His eyes were wide with surprise, a glint of anger in them and she went to her tiptoes, jerking him towards her and kissing him with every pent up feeling of rage and and helplessness she had had for the last two weeks. 

She was so _furious_ \- she stroked her tongue against his - and the worst part was she kind of liked him - she sucked hard on his bottom lip, startling a noise from deep in his throat - under other circumstances she might have _really_ liked him - his hands were on her ass, lifting her feet off the ground and deepening their kiss - but everything was so fucking _screwed up_.

She broke away from him, panting as her eyes searched his. “I don’t like an audience,” she said, struck by the inspiration. It was as good of a reason as any not to get in the car with him - although all things considered, it was pretty flimsy. She had already given him a hand job in a public alley, and molested him in both a nightclub and the fight ring - and hell, now on the street. If he gave it more than two seconds of thought he’d see right through it.

She was _really_ counting on him not thinking straight.

His eyes flicked between her and the waiting men and he growled in his throat. “Fucking hell,” he muttered, setting her from him and running a hand through his hair, “I don’t think you understand, I _have_ to go.” His eyes met hers, “I have to… it doesn’t matter. But I have to get in that damned car. Are you coming with me?”

She did her best to convey all of her hunger for him in her eyes, her face, “Are you going to fuck me in the backseat of that car?”

“ _Yes_ ,” the word came out strained, through gritted teeth.

She took a step back, her lips parted as she stared into his face and shook her head.

His cheek twitched as he looked at her, his hands clenching and unclenching into fists at his sides before he swore again, turning from her and jerking the door to the vehicle open. He slammed it behind him, angrily talking to the other occupants as it pulled from the curb.

Charlie set her arm against the wall, leaning her forehead against the cool brick.

Fuck she had just royally screwed up.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Nevada felt his phone buzz in his pocket and pulled it out. His personal phone, he noted, not work. One new message from Charlie. He narrowed his eyes, he hadn’t seen her in days. Not since she refused him outside that fighting ring.

He hesitated before opening it.

- _I should have gone with you._

He raised an eyebrow. Well, that was unexpected. He regarded his phone silently for a bit before replying.

- _Yes you should have._

He went to put it back in his pocket but it buzzed again.

_-How can I make it up to you?_

He paused, his thumb stroking along the side of the case as he considered his response. It buzzed in his hand and he glanced down at the screen. A hand lying on bare skin, cherry blossoms running under the fingertips.

He raised an eyebrow. - _More_ he texted back.

A long wait, long enough that he started to think he wasn’t going to get a response then that little buzz. He opened the photo. A hand again, but this time lying across a breast - thumb brushing the nipple. Text soon followed.

- _I’m thinking about you_.

His brows drew together and he glanced sideways at the man driving the car. Alex had his eyes on the road, singing along to the music as he drove them south. 

- _What?_

Three more texts from her in quick succession.

_-About your hands again_

_-How they feel on my skin_

_-How they feel in my pussy_

Another photo, a hand lying on her hip, he could see her navel, that silver charm laying on her skin but out of focus and part of a bare thigh in the background. Her fingers looked… _wet_.

- _Are you touching yourself?_ he asked.

_-Fucking myself._ came the reply

Fuck, he was hard, sitting in this damn car with Alex. Nothing to be done about it. He leaned against the window, one finger rubbing along his lower lip.

- _Tell me._

The texts came fast, one after the other.

_-I’m so wet_

_-Imagining your tongue on me_

_-In my pussy_

_-Your big cock_

_-I remember how you taste_

_-I want to feel you in my mouth_

_-Swallow your cum_

_-I’m thinking about sucking you_

_-Kneeling for you_

_-Fingering myself for you as I suck your cock_

The next text was a video and he opened it without realizing it - quickly turning the volume off. She was holding the phone above her and he could see her face and breasts. Her arm was pressed to her side at an angle, disappearing out of frame but obviously in motion. He watched in fascination as she arched her neck back, her mouth moving on three syllables.

Fuck she was saying his name. She had just sent him a video of her coming and screaming his name. 

If he didn’t watch himself he could fall in love with this woman.

- _Good girl_ he sent her.

 

* * *

 

Charlie laid back in her bed, resting her phone against her stomach. 

- _Good girl_

It shouldn’t have made her hot but it did. After four days of not hearing from him she knew for certain she’d fucked up. She should have gotten in the car with him. Given him another handjob, blown him, _something_ besides letting him walk away from her that night. She thought about seeking him out at a club again - but she couldn’t risk him refusing her. She might have pushed him too far.

So then text him, overwhelm him with her skin, get him thinking about her again.

- _Good girl_.

She smiled.

 


	11. Chapter 11

Charlie throttled back on Tasha’a engine, slipping down a gear as she cruised around the corner. She was taking a risk, having the bike out. But it had been weeks and Nevada hadn’t even mentioned the bike since that first day. So a calculated risk. She sighed as she slowly backed the bike up to the curb, feeling the stiff material of her motorcycle leathers stretch against her skin.

She spotted the large black SUV at the same moment she unbuckled the helmet and put the kickstand down - that is, a moment to late. It pulled in front of her, between her bike and the street, effectively blocking her in. She swung her leg over, backing towards the sidewalk as five men got out of the vehicle - Nevada and four _really_ big henchmen.

“Get him,” Nevada snarled, “Teach this kid some manners. Teach him not to take what isn’t his.”

She glanced down the street. She could run, it was definitely an option. But that would mean abandoning her bike to them and she refused to do that. Anyway, there were only five of them - four if she didn’t count Nevada who she couldn’t imagine engaging in a street fight. Hitting someone for sure, under controlled circumstances - but not an actual brawl. And men as big as them always underestimated her because of her size. She could use that against them.

Also, and this was really the most important part: she was _literally_ wearing armor. 

It almost didn’t seem fair.

She slid her right foot behind her and out, rising a bit to the balls of her feet. Her fingers twitched in anticipation as the man on the far left rushed her. She ducked his arm, using the momentum in her swing and decked him with a cross - the hard plastic knuckles of her gloves connecting into the side of his head. His head snapped and he dropped like a sack of bricks.

She pulled back and in, settling back into her stance, fists up but loose. The other three men looked more cautious, exchanging glances with each other and then Nevada. He made a noise in his throat and they came at her as one. She turned into the one on the left, her elbow coming up to take him in the chin and she heard the crunch of bone where the reinforced joint guard caught him and saw blood spurt from his mouth. Shit, she hoped he hadn’t bitten off part of his tongue. Two quick hits to her stomach from the right sent her back into the arms of the fourth man who grabbed at her elbows.

She jerked her head back, hoping to catch the man behind her in the nose but he was significantly taller than her and she was awkward in her helmet. She didn’t think she hit her mark, but maybe knocked his throat instead. He stumbled back in surprise, his hands coming up to pull at the helmet. She pulled inwards as the man in front of her gave two sharp jabs to her kidney and she spun to the side, reaching up to grab her helmet as it was pulled off.

She caught the straps, yanking it from the grasp of the man behind her. She crouched back and swung, catching the fourth with the helmet full across his face. His head snapped sideways and he fell backwards, head bouncing off the ground when he hit.

She had lied when she told Nevada she was good - she was _great_.

The man she had hit first was slowly getting to his feet. The one she had clocked with her elbow had blood running down his chin and he looked angry. The guy she had hit with her helmet was out - which left one guy still really in the game.

And Nevada.

Her eyes met his, her fingers working into the straps of her helmet, pulling them tight to her wrist.

“That all you got?” she taunted.

His eyes, which had been wide in surprise at seeing her, narrowed. “ _Get her_ ,” he snarled and the three men now on their feet rushed her again. She kicked and punched but they were ready for her this time and in the end she found herself with her arms twisted tight behind her by a man on each side as she was slammed against the brick wall.

Nevada walked towards her slowly, bending to pick her helmet up off the ground. She sagged against the men on each side, feeling them tighten their grip to hold her up. Good. She used them for leverage when Nevada got close enough and kicked out, hoping to catch him in the stomach. He sidestepped, quicker than she would have given him credit for, and moved into her guard.

He stared at her for a long moment and she waited, waited for the questions, the accusations, anything.

“Put her in the back,” he said instead, turning from her and tossing the helmet to one of his men. 

They dragged her to the SUV, shoving her against it as they pulled something from the trunk. Zipties, she realized as they tightened on her wrists. They rolled her onto the scratchy carpet and she noted that there was some kind of cover above her, keeping her from seeing out of the vehicle.

The door slammed closed and a few minutes later they were moving.

 


	12. Chapter 12

Nevada watched as they dragged Charlie into the warehouse by her elbows, her wrists tied behind her and her feet dragging the floor. They dropped her on the concrete at his feet and stepped away, waiting for his word. Miguel looked ready to kill someone, the blood on his chin matting into his goatee. Behind him, Alex rolled the motorcycle into the warehouse.

He pushed at her with the toe of his shoe. She didn’t move and he dropped into a crouch next to her. “So quiet little girl? No fight left in you?”

Rolling to her back she got her hands and feet under her, using the small amount of leverage to push herself up to her knees. She sat back on her heels and looked him in the eye. Purple bruising was starting to show on her cheek and a tinge of blood colored her bottom lip where it was already beginning to swell. He wondered who had gotten the hit in, then if he should do something about it. She licked her tongue out, slowly lapping up the line of blood and stared into his eyes.

“Untie me” she said, leaning towards him, “and I’ll show you exactly how much fight I still have.”

He grinned at her, reaching out and cupping her cheek, pressing his thumb into the bruise there. She blinked hard at him but didn’t flinch. He stood up, pacing around her in a slow circle.

“Why don’t you tell me about my bike eh? And how it came to be in your possession and not mine?”

Her shoulders tightened, “She’s not _your_ bike.”

“I beg to differ cariño, she is mine. Given to me to repay a debt.”

Did she really just growl at him? “She wasn’t Rico’s to give.”

“Ah Rico, I was beginning to wonder if this would lead back to him. Let me guess, your deadbeat boyfriend?”

She snorted at that, ending it with a small sound of pain, “Christ no. My cousin.”

“Family,” he tsked, “isn’t it always like that?”

“You have no idea…” she muttered.

“So what was this then? You fucking around with me? Let me play with that pretty little pussy of yours?” He paused, “The video, were you faking?”

She didn’t answer him and he took a step towards her, “Were you… _using_ me?”

She stared him dead in the eye, “Let’s call you an insurance policy.”

He stopped walking for a moment, then continued. “An insurance policy. In case this happened no?”

“The thought did occur to me.”

“Then why didn’t you use it?”

She looked up at him then for a moment, her confusion written across her face before looking back down, “Use it?”

“Back out there, when you knew you were caught, why not say who you were. There was no need to fight.”

He watched her for her response. Her eyebrows drew together and she starting laughing. “It honestly didn’t occur to me. I thought about running, don’t get me wrong, but it did not occur to me to just tell you.”

“You fought four of my guys. Miguel is going to need new teeth.”

She looked to the side, “Yeah, about that Miguel. I really am sorry.”

The big man glared at her, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, you’re sorry. That’s nice. You’re sorry. But be that what it may, you stole from me. And then you fucked up my men,” his eyes met theirs, gratified by the sheepish and downcast looks they gave him in return. “I think you and I need to talk about punishment.”

She laughed, no mirth to it, “Can’t steal what you already own. And your men rushed _me_. If either of us is going to be punished I really think it ought to be _you_.”

He looked down at her, hands bound behind her back as she knelt on the cold concrete floor of the warehouse and had to admit to the tiniest bit of admiration for her. Grown men pissed themselves under the same circumstances but she held her chin up - not bothering to try and watch him but staring straight forward. He reached out, sliding his hand into the short hair at the back of her head and pulling her back until she looked up at him. He chuckled, “That’s not going to happen.” He moved his other hand under her chin, squeezing until she was forced to open her mouth. “But I think we can find something mutually agreeable, mmh?”

He let her go, stepping away and motioning for his men to leave. Behind him, he heard her mutter, “Typical,” under her breath and waited for the door to close before responding.

“What was that? You have something you want to say?” stepping in front of her again.

Her eyes met his, “I said typical. Like every man you see a woman and all you see is mouth, tits and a cunt.” She arched her shoulders back and rolled her eyes, “Fuck it, let’s get this over with. Sucking or fucking?”

Nevada felt the corner of his eye twitch. 

She pulled her feet under her, unsteadily rising up until she was standing in front of him and shook her head for a moment as if to clear it. Her eyes met his. Cold, calculating. “I said, sucking…” she asked again, “or _fucking_?”

“I seem to remember talk of ‘muscles I never even dreamed of’…” he prompted and watched her lips twitch.

“Fucking it is then. Shall I just go bend over that railing there?” she raised one eyebrow expectantly.

He growled low in his throat. He wasn’t sure what had happened but he suddenly felt he was no longer in control of the situation. He stepped toward her, gripping his hand around her soft neck and she lifted her chin, barely moving as he squeezed. “This isn’t your time zorra, this isn’t your time or place. This is about me - about what you owe _me_. Do you understand?” she blinked at him, her face turning red as she struggled to breathe and he let her go.

She swayed on her feet but stayed upright as she watched him move away from her, his hands unbuckling his belt. “On your knees,” he ordered and when she didn’t move he grabbed her by the front of her jacket, pulling her forward until she fell. 

 He guided his cock between her lips, his hand clenching in her hair as he warned her, “If you bite me it will be the last thing you do.” Her eyes were on his but she didn’t do anything, just knelt and stared up at him. He thrust into her mouth a few times, but she was unresponsive.

“Suck,” he commanded and she only blinked up at him.

He growled, putting both hands behind her head and fucking into her face until he felt himself touch the back of her throat, saw her eyes water and heard her choke on him but she didn’t respond. Just continued to stare at him.

Finally, he pulled away, watching the line of spit that connected his cock to her swollen lips. “Well,” he muttered, “fucking it is.”

He lifted her by her arm, shoving her across the open space to where the motorcycle - the sum of their problems - sat silent and waiting. He unzipped her pants, shoving them and her underwear to her knees before bending her over the soft leather seat. He wrapped his fingers around her wrists, pressing them against the small of her back as he slapped her ass, watching the skin turn red.

He kicked her legs apart and pressed the head of his cock against her pussy. She was a little wet, certainly not dry, but he knew from experience that she wasn’t anywhere near as aroused as she could be. He moved against her, the head of his cock pushing inside her and he saw her bruised cheek twitch from the invasion. It wasn’t very comfortable for him either. He stopped, his hands flat on her back holding her down, and hung his head for a moment.

“Just admit it to yourself Nevada,” her voice was soft, “You don’t want to fuck me. You want _me_ to fuck _you_.”

He paused - unwilling to admit the truth of it. He liked his women willing. He liked them wet and squirming and begging for him. He liked to hear them call out his name like it was a prayer. Look at him like he was the only man in the world.

She was right.

He cursed, pulling away from her and tucking himself into his pants. She stood up, turning so she was sitting back against the bike, her pants still around her thighs. “Untie me,” her voice was soft, a request not a command. He reached down and pulled the knife out of his boot, stepping up to her and then reaching around to cut through the plastic. It came apart with a loud cracking sound and she rolled her shoulders, pulling her hands in front of her.

 


	13. Chapter 13

He stepped back from her, watching as she turned her neck this way and that. Her hands came together and he heard the crunch of velcro as she removed her gloves, dropping them next to the bike. And she watched him.

He dropped his knife into the pocket of his coat, his eyes on her long fingers as they lifted to the zipper of her jacket, pulling it down in one long, slow motion. She shrugged out of it, dropping it on top of the gloves and he felt his heart rate speed up. She toed her boots off, kicking them to the side and lifted her hands to her thin white shirt. He could see her nipples against it already, the darker skin showing clearly through the cotton. She pulled it over her head, her hair ruffling a bit and his eyes traced the cherry blossoms that crawled up her side, curling over her shoulder and down her arm. She put her hands to her pants, pushing them off completely and to the floor. Stepping out of them and kicking them to the side.

She was completely naked in front of him and Nevada was equal parts confused and aroused. 

She took a small step forward then another, now almost halfway between him and the bike. Another, her fingers reaching out to catch at his shirt and pull him closer to her as she lifted her mouth and sought his. He resisted, keeping his chin up and staring down his nose at her, “What are you doing?”

Unbuttoning his shirt, her fingers seeking and finding his skin beneath it. “Fucking you,” she said simply and his cock, already softening after its earlier misadventure, found new life.

“Why?” he bit out, fingers curling around her biceps and pushing her back from him. 

“Because I’ve wanted to fuck you since the moment I met you. Because now finally, _finally_ you know the truth and I can. Because I want to - because I want _you_.” 

That was enough for him. His hands pulled her close and he lifted her by her arms, feeling her legs wrap around his hips as he kissed her. She moaned into his mouth, her arms wrapping as tight around him as her legs were and kissed him back. Her hands pushed at his shirt and jacket, shoving them both off his shoulders and he shrugged out of them, feeling her nipples brush the hairs on his chest, her wet pussy pressing against his stomach. 

Her lips were at the base of his neck, licking and sucking on him. His hands slid up and down her bare back before settling on her hips and pushing her gently away. She went reluctantly, setting her feet on the ground one at a time. When his hands fell to his pants, pushing them down til they fell on the floor she smiled at him. Backing away slowly, her hips swaying with promise until she was at the motorcycle again.

She perched against the gas tank, the toes of one foot just barely touching the ground. “Come here,” she crooked a finger at him, “let’s go for a ride.” The grin on her face held promise and he strode to her, leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor. He swung his leg over the seat, pulling her toward him as she moved to straddle him. He lifted her by her hips, watching her reach down to guide his cock into her.

She was dripping wet now and he groaned low in his throat as he felt her hot pussy slide around him. He pressed her all the way down on him, heard her short gasp as she took his entire length. He felt her thighs move against him, her body rocking against his slowly. He guided her on top of him, short movements that left them both panting but unfulfilled. He was about to suggest a change of position when she shifted, pulling her legs up. She rested her feet on the exhausts, leaning back and away from him across the gas tank, her shoulders on the handle bars. He rocked forward experimentally, looking down to see his cock disappearing inside her and she made a hoarse cry.

She was spread out before him, her pale skin stark against the black of the bike. He reached up, pressing his hands to her ribcage, cupping her as he began to fuck into her hard, her tits bouncing with each movement. She squirmed her hips against him and he watched as she slipped one hand down her body, the other clenching his thigh, and began to rub against herself.

“That’s it baby,” he told her, “come for me.”

He was watching her face now, fucking her hard as she made little cries. Finally, _finally_ , she tightened around him, her chest arching into his hands as she screamed, “Nevada!”

He came inside her before she had finished the word.


	14. Chapter 14

Charlie felt the cool metal under her back and Nevada’s warm hands on her ribs and she smiled. Her eyes were still shut and she stayed where she was a moment longer. They needed to talk but fuck she didn’t want to.

When she finally cracked one eye to look at him he was studying her, memorizing her body against the motorcycle. God she must look like a total slut, spread out in front of him. The thought made her smile deepen and the tightening grip of his fingers told her that he had noticed she was coherent again. She clenched her thighs around him, using the leverage to sit upright and set her hands on his shoulders. His brow was furrowed and he looked, well, not happy.

She waited, there was no need to speak first and she had no where to be. All the time in the world in fact. While she waited, she ran her fingers into his hair, noting how he leaned into the touch for a moment before pulling away.

“You fight like a demon - fuck like an angel. What else do you do?”

She smiled at him, “I make a mean cherry pie.”

He didn’t smile back and she sighed. “What are you angry about?”

“What am I-?” he blinked at her, “Where do you want me to start?”

She raised her eyebrow, not responding. He needed this.

“That night at the club, that wasn’t accidental was it?’

“No.”

“And the texts? Were those just a show for me?”

“They were absolutely a show for you, but that doesn’t make them not real.” She slid her fingers around to cup his jaw, “Are you really angry with me for _seducing_ you?”

He reached up and caught her wrist, his fingers tight against her, “Don’t. Don’t try and play me like that. You have no idea of the man I am. You’re playing with fire.”

She bit back the response that sprang to her lips. This wasn’t the time. But he deserved some of the truth, “I know exactly the kind of man you are. I’m not afraid of getting burnt.” Her fingertips brushed against the skin of his neck and he shivered, “I wish we’d met differently. At the club, we would have danced together.” She smiled sideways at him, “You would have grabbed my ass, I’d have punched you in the face. And then I could have kissed you better.” She saw the corner of his mouth twitch against his will and she leaned a little closer, her nipples dragging in the hairs on his chest, “I can think of a hundred different ways we could have met. Better than this. But I’m not unhappy that we did.”

“You lied to me.”

“The only thing I ever lied to you about was my bike.”

His eyes flicked down then back to hers, considering. She moved a little closer, she could feel his breath against her lips and she watched for him to move away. When he didn’t she kissed him. Softly, her lips barely moving until she slipped her tongue out to trace at the seam of his mouth. He parted for her, his hand releasing her wrist and going down to lift her higher against him.

When he broke away from her he was panting, his eyes hard.

“You stay with me and you need to put everything on the table, no more lies.”

She didn’t hesitate before lying to him, “No more.”

He kissed her then, his tongue thrusting into her mouth as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body flush to his. She curled her arms around his neck, loving the feel of him against her.

When he finally pulled away he met her eyes, a muscle in his jaw working. “I’m keeping the bike.”

She pouted, “We can discuss that.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head, lifting her off his lap and setting her to the floor as he got up as well. “You are a piece of work, you know that? ‘We can discuss that’…” he laughed to himself, picking up his discarded pants and pulling them on.

She watched him get dressed, leaning against the bike. When he got to the buttons of his shirt he looked up at her, surprise and appreciation on his face. “Are you walking out of here like that?”

She giggled and licked at her bottom lip, “Sorry, just enjoying the view.”

He growled at her and she bent, retrieving her clothes and getting into them even quicker than she had gotten out of them. She slung the leather jacket over her shoulder with one hand rather than put it on, her hand slipping around Nevada’s waist as he stepped up next to her. He led her to the large metal door and she paused before passing through.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” she purred, looking back over her shoulder at the motorcycle and stroking her fingers along his side.

He laughed, low in his throat, “And you looked great doing it.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, I guess I’m basically writing the opposite of Sofia’s story in ‘Debt makes Promises’ at this point.

The music in the nightclub seemed too loud as Charlie pulled the edge of her skirt down a touch. The couch she was sharing with Nevada seemed too small for them both. It was their first real “date” after the whole incident at the warehouse and she was a little uncertain if she should continue as they had been - fuck or be fucked - or if they were trying to build something like a relationship.

Jesus, that thought was terrifying.

She watched with interest as he deftly took a small bag from the skinny kid squatting on the floor. Nevada had one hand behind the kids neck, pulling the acne scarred closer to him. The kid was nodding along, slowly at first and then with more vehemence. Nevada flicked his fingers and the kid quickly scurried away.

Nevada turned to her, the baggie still held between two of his fingers. “What is that?”

He raised an eyebrow at her, reaching for the whiskey on the table, “Just something a little fun. For later.”

She watched him take a drink, her eyes on his throat. “Later?”

Soft green eyes met hers and he set the drink down, “Or now if you’d like.”

She smiled at him, sliding closer on the sofa. If what was in that bag could make her less nervous she definitely wanted it now. She kissed him, licking at his lower lip before pulling away and he raised a hand to her mouth. He held the small pill to her lips and Charlie took it with her tongue, licking against him as she swallowed. Those beautiful green eyes were narrow, unfocused as he watched her. He slid his hand against her, cupping her face in his big palm and she rubbed her cheek into his skin.

“Are you going to?” she asked.

He shook his head slowly, “No, I don’t when I’m out.”

Pulling away from him, her eyes clouding a bit, “I didn’t - I don’t want to do this alone.”

He laughed, pulling her face close to his and he kissed the tip of her nose, “I’ll be right here.”

She swayed into him, standing up and pulling him along behind her as she ducked down and onto the dance floor. He was saying something to her but the music was too loud and she pulled him close to her instead, pressing her hips to his as she rocked her body to the deep bass beat. His hands held her and she curled her fingers around his neck, shutting her eyes against the flashing lights.

After several long minutes she felt herself growing sweaty, light-headed. The music was loud and pulsing and she could feel it in her veins. She opened her eyes to see him staring down at her, a look of concern etched on his face. “Kiss me,” she said, but the music was too loud and his brows drew together in confusion. She pulled at his neck and said it again, directly onto his lips. He complied, reaching down to cup her ass and she moved against him as their tongues intertwined. She was still swaying to the music - or some music anyway, maybe it was all in her head now - one of his legs between hers as she rubbed against his thigh. He said something but the lights stole the words away and she licked his neck instead.

She felt the low rumble of his groan beneath his skin and she craved it, running her tongue down his chest to see if he’d make it again. That black shirt, the one that always kept her from him, was in her way again. She unbuttoned the uppermost with her teeth, using her hands to do the one after it at the same time and licked at his chest when it was bared. His hands were on her arms, pulling her away, his lips moving again. More words she didn’t understand. She blinked at him slowly, reaching out to touch his skin.

Suddenly he was backing her through the crowd, almost carrying her with one arm around her waist and she sighed into his shoulder, sucking on a heartbeat she found there. He guided her into the side alley where his Escalade was parked and she giggled, biting him under the chin as she felt his stubble scratch her nose.

He was saying something to someone, words that seemed to float into the night like ‘watch’ and ‘protect’. Good words. He was saying words to her again now, his hand under her chin as he tried to get her to look at him. She couldn’t though. Those eyes were too deep for her. She shook her head at him, holding a finger to her lips. There wasn’t any point in talking, not if the night was going to keep stealing the words.

He smiled down at her and she grinned in response - glad he finally understood. Pressing him back to the side of the vehicle as she finished unbuttoning his shirt. His skin was like velvet beneath her fingers and she rubbed her cheek against his chest just to feel it. She couldn’t get enough of it, tracing fingertips along his ribs, his muscles, down his abdomen before following with her lips. Her tongue. Tasting the places she touched. 

She was going to her knees, intent on licking every inch of him when she felt him catch her. She groaned in protest, shaking her head at him and he laughed down at her, opening the car door behind his back and pulling her inside with him.

Oh this was so much better. It was quieter and the night couldn’t get to them here. She told him as much and he laughed again, his body hovering over hers on the rich leather seats. She slipped a hand into his hair, stroking the softness until she hummed with it and felt his hand under her skirt, seeking upwards until he was touching her wetness. She was crying out, or maybe it was some other girl. It didn’t matter. All that mattered were his hands and his eyes. Twisting beneath him, trying to find her release listening to his whispered encouragements - but it was always just out of her grasp. She knew what was wrong - she hadn’t finished earlier - and she pushed him from her hard, watching him settle back on his knees even as his eyebrows snapped together into a frown.

She pushed herself to the floor, her hands searching for his belt buckle and when he realized what she was doing he cooperated quickly, sitting into the seat with his legs on either side of her, lifting his hips so she could pull his pants to his knees.

There it was, that big cock she had been waiting for. She moaned as she reached for him, feeling him shift under her fingers the moment before she took him into her mouth. He made music for her, sighing and grunting and moaning as she sucked on him. Licked him. Stroked him. He said words to her in Spanish she didn’t understand, words in English that held no meaning either. There was just him and her and his cock and when he came between her lips she shut her eyes and swallowed every bit of him.

He had to pull her from him. She resisted, wanting to feel him between her lips still - even as he softened. Hands guided her into his lap, her head on his shoulder and her legs stretched across the seats. He crooned in her ear, more nonsense words she didn’t understand. Her body felt hot, heavy. 

The words were starting to unravel now, more noises and she shook her head against them. His hand was on her again, pressing between her thighs, guiding two of those long beautiful fingers inside of her. She cried out moving her hips into his grasp - he fucked her and she swore she could hear colors. When he twitched his thumb upward to rub across her clit she screamed, coming hard and then drifting into unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

Nevada watched her eyes flutter closed, his fingers still knuckle deep in her pussy. Well, that had been interesting. He had planned on them getting high together, back at his apartment. Fucking her on the rug in front of a fire. 

But this had been fun too. 

He checked his watch. She wouldn’t come down for another couple of hours yet. Still plenty of time to get back to the original plan. He fixed his pants as best he could then knocked on the window, giving quick directions when his man came back. He settled against the seat, running his fingers down her soft skin thoughtfully.

 


	16. Chapter 16

Nevada carried Charlie into his apartment, setting her down on his couch before getting a glass of water. He watched her, waiting as she slowly roused herself from her stupor.

“Nevada?”

“I’m here,” he said, crossing the room to her. She reached up for him and he slid onto the couch next to her, feeling her arms wrap around his neck and her cheek rub against his. 

“Why were you so far?” she mumbled, her lips on his skin again.

He laughed a little, “Where do you want me?”

“Here,” her fingers clutched at him, pulling him closer and he obliged by lifting her into his lap. Her hands were on him, undoing the two buttons he had done up in the car and slipping beneath his shirt. He fumbled in his pocket for the baggie, pulling one pill out. He set her away from him slightly, pressing the small pink pill to her lower lip.

“Not for you,” he admonished, as he saw her tongue dart towards it. Her lips were parted and he groaned as he leaned forward, sucking her lip into his mouth and swallowing. She hummed against him, her fingertips trailing to his sides and he jumped under her touch.

Bright eyes met his, her lower lip caught between her teeth. “Are you… _ticklish_?” the thought seemed to delight her and before he could deny it she was touching him again and he jolted. He tried to capture her wrists but she was moving too quickly and he was squirming under her uncontrollably. He lifted her off of him, laying her on his rug and pinned her with his body.

His hands caught under her arms, pulling them over her head and she stretched beneath him, all but purring as she did so. Noting the goose bumps on her skin he sat up, moving away from her to the fireplace. “Nevada?”

“I’m right here, “ he reassured her, quickly lighting the fire and stoking it until he was sure it would last on it’s own. He stared into it for a moment, admiring the flames before he forced himself to shake his head. That was the drugs kicking in.

The light of the fire played over her skin, casting ripples that seemed to make the ink underneath move on its own. Her soft green shirt hung from one shoulder as he reached out to pull her skirt down and off. She smiled at him, running her fingers down her neck before reaching up and brushing his shirt from his shoulders. He shrugged it off.

Unbuckling his belt, he quickly removed the rest of his clothing, laying down and propping his head up with one hand next to her so she was between him and the fire. He admired her for a moment, the rise of her breast and the curve of her hip. She was still stretched out, her eyes partially shut, but when he placed his hand on her stomach she moved - arching her back beneath his touch. She felt like satin or velvet, something soft and warm. He shifted closer so the full length of his body pressed to her and she made a low murmuring sound as she pulled her shirt off.

Naked, she turned to him, hooking her leg over his hip and they were together - skin against skin. She felt so good. She mumbled happily and rubbed her body against his and he closed his eyes at the warmth of her, the slide of her skin. He leaned into her, his nose skimming along her neck. She smelled like honey and… motor oil? Just a hint. He smiled and licked at her skin. Savoring the taste of her and the sounds she made.

He pressed a kiss against one of the bright pink petals that fell over her shoulder, tracing his tongue along the thin lines of the tattoo. He leaned over her shoulder, kissing and nuzzling, following the path of the cherry blossoms down her side, lifting her arm to lick her ribs. Everything felt hazy and sharp at once, the sights and scents nearly overwhelming him.

Her hand curled around his cock and he slowly thrust into her palm. She was licking his shoulder and he pressed into her, rolling her onto her back and sliding his body over hers. He moved between her legs, entering her slowly, drawing her thigh up higher so the angle made her moan. 

She was so wet, her hot pussy clenching around the length of him and he shifted slightly, feeling her muscles flutter. Fuck, she was tight. 

“Hurry,” she muttered into his skin and he laughed, gently easing out of her.

“Not a chance.”

The light from the fire made her look otherworldly, her lips parted as she mumbled and sighed incoherently. He leaned down, licking from her neck to her breast, the skin melting like spun sugar beneath him. He pulled on her nipple with his lips, flicking the small bud with his tongue. Sugar and candy and honey. He couldn’t get enough of the taste.

He was still moving inside her, long slow strokes that he savored every inch of. Her hands were in his hair, alternating between clutching at him and running the strands between her fingers. He lost track of time, angling his hips so his cock rubbed against the apex of her pussy, making her moan and squirm under him. 

Her orgasm was beautifully silent. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her mouth opening but no words came out. Deep shuddering breaths that moved his entire body as he covered her.

When he came it rolled on him slowly. A tightness behind his eyes, then across his shoulders - traveling down his back to his balls. He sighed, pressing his hips to hers until the last shudder left his body. 

He gently rolled them both to the side, holding her to him. The fire warmed his fingers and her skin and he settled her against his arm. She couldn’t stop touching him, continuing to murmur sleepy phrases into his chest as they both slowly drifted off.


	17. Chapter 17

Charlie glanced up at the sound of the engine coming down the alley. “Jules!” she called out, going back to cleaning the rusted chain on the bike in front of her. She saw both bike and rider in her peripheral and called out again, “ _Jules!_ ” After a moment she sighed, tossing down the cloth and can of cleaner and standing. 

“ _JULES!_ ” she yelled back over her shoulder as she turned to greet the customer - then stopped in her tracks. That was a beautiful Ninja - clean lines, meticulously maintained, matte black custom… paint… job…

That was _her_ fucking bike. 

And grinning like a fool as he pulled his helmet off was Nevada.

Her fists clenched for a moment before she forced herself to relax. His shit-eating grin was not helping her blood pressure. “You bringing my bike back?”

He laughed and she almost threw a wrench at him. “I thought you might want to go for a ride.”

“On _my_ bike?” she bit out.

“ _My_ bike,” he corrected and she actually picked the wrench up. She considered it, but if her aim was off she’d hit Tasha and then she’d cry. It went back on the bench with a loud clank - Nevada visibly relaxing as she dropped it. “Beautiful day out…” he prompted after a moment.

She stalked away from him, grabbing a helmet from the far wall before yelling, “I’ll be back later.”

Nevada chuckled and pulled his helmet back on, buckling it as she slid onto the seat behind him.* “I can’t believe I’m riding bitch on my own bike,” she muttered and felt rather than heard him laugh as she wrapped her arms around his waist. He maneuvered a tight turn and then guided them back down the alley and into the street.

She’d forgotten how much fun it could be to be a passenger on a bike. None of the worries, the alertness, the ‘everyone is out to kill me’ quiet nagging that came with driving. She leaned her head back, spreading her fingers against Nevada’s chest and felt the wind whipping at her clothes. There was a certain calmness to it, of not being in control for once; trust and joy and freedom all rolled into one. She leaned with him into the next curve, not even bothering to look as she took her cues from his body. Her thighs pressed against the outside of his and as they crossed the bridge he reached back and gently squeezed at her. She rested her chin on his shoulder and contemplated doing some squeezing of her own.

She didn’t, mostly because she _really_ didn’t want to die on the GWB.

He took them along the cliffs of the Palisades, up the highway until they were back in New York state, through Bear Mountain Park and then back over the Hudson. It was a beautiful drive and she made a mental note to get out of the city more. He pulled over at a small town she couldn’t have named if you’d paid her and cut the engine. As he set the kickstand down she leaned into him, unbuckling her helmet with one hand and pulling it off as he did the same. He turned his face towards her and she pressed her cheek to his.

Neither of them said a word, his hand falling again to her thigh against his. A scent rose from him, something masculine and expensive she couldn’t name - along with something that was uniquely him. She breathed it in, sighing a little as she did so.

“Dinner?” he asked finally and she nodded, slowly dismounting and stretching her hands to the sky as she waited for him. He caught her around the waist, dipping his head to kiss the smile on her lips. 

The ‘Tavern’ - as the sign outside told her - looked dilapidated, but she was pleasantly surprised to see the clean interior and mouthwatering food on other people’s tables as they took a seat. Her stomach grumbled and she blushed - she’d forgotten to eat lunch. Again.

She ordered a pale ale and a burger with at least three more words in its name than a burger should have. At Nevada’s prompting smirk she ordered three appetizers as well, admonishing the waitress, “No, seriously, just bring everything as it’s ready.”

The beer was cold, perfect, soothing her throat as she propped her feet up on the booth next to him. He set a hand on her ankle, sliding his fingers under the edge of her jeans to touch her bare skin and she shivered. He smirked at her and she searched for something to say.

“I’ve got a fight this Saturday do you-“ she ran her finger around the edge of the pint glass, “do you want to come?” Well, that wasn’t exactly what she had had in mind - but it beat ‘Wanna fuck out back?’ as a conversation opener she guessed.

He didn’t answer the question, taking a long drink from his own beer instead. “Why do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Fight.”

She sighed, “Because I’m good at it.” 

“That’s not an answer,” he retorted.

“It’s enough for me,” she shrugged. She hated the question, always had. “I mean, I wish I had some good story for you about living on the streets, fighting for my supper, defending people - but I don’t. I fight because I’m good at it, and I enjoy it.” She paused, “And I’m good at it.”

“You already said that.”

“Well,” she smiled at him, “it deserves to be said twice.”

He stared at her, cocking his head to the side and chuckled. “I suppose it does.”

She laughed a little as she leaned forward, “You don’t like it do you?”

“Would it matter if I didn’t?” His eyes searched hers and she froze.

Their food came then and she said a silent thank you to her guardian angel for the interruption. She proceeded to stuff her face full of hamburger, not reacting to his slightly scolding look as he picked at his own food. God, he could be such a prude sometime. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she moaned, “Bam vats uh gub buba.”

“What was that?”

She swallowed, “Damn that’s a good burger.”

“You really don’t have the best manners do you?”

She rolled her eyes, “And you’re a little dainty aren’t you?”

The corners of his eyes got tight and she saw a muscle clench in his jaw. “Well one of us should be.”

Oh god, he looked so pissed that she had to giggle, then the laughter tumbled out of her and she pressed her face into her hands. When she caught her breath he was staring at her with one eyebrow raised. She rose out of the booth, crossing to him and pressing her hips against his to make him slide over. Leaning into him, she kissed his frown lines, cupping his neck with one hand. He resisted at first, but when her tongue licked at his lips he gave her entrance, tangling his to hers.

“You are something else,” she told him as she broke away, pulling her plate and beer to their side of the booth and leaned her shoulder into his side. She picked her burger back up and watched in the corner of her eye as he studied her. Under the table, she felt his thigh shift to press along hers and she smiled.

 

* * *

 

The sun was low on the horizon when they left the restaurant. She skipped ahead of him to Tasha, throwing a leg over and looking back at him. 

“No.”

“Oh come on,” she wheedled.

“No. Move.”

She pulled one leg over from the front - half sitting, half leaning into the bike. “If you let me drive I’ll do that thing you like.” Cocking her head to the side, she paused before offering, “Twice.”

He paused, considering. One of his feet came up to rest on the foot peg and he leaned down to her. “Which thing?”

“You pick,” she licked her lips and gave him her best sultry look.

His lips parted, his eyes going unfocused for a moment. “Oh, you are good,” his tongue slowly traced against his bottom lip and he leaned into her until she had to move away from him a little to keep eye contact. He slid his hand between her and the seat, lifting her and setting her away from the bike as he got on. “But not in a million years.” The look on her face must have been comical because he laughed as he put the key in the ignition. 

“Really? With an offer like that on the table?”

Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her to him until he could kiss her. When they broke, she was panting and he licked against her lips. “You’re going to give it to me anyway - I don’t have any reason to negotiate.”

She pouted as she pulled her helmet on, wishing she could deny it. She slid behind him and wrapped an arm around his waist. The other she slid down to the front of his pants.

“Nevada?” she had to speak up to be heard through her helmet and his.

“Yeah?” he kicked the bike down into 1st, revving the engine a little.

“You should have let _me_ pick.” She massaged her hand against him and felt him grow hard under her palm. 

“You’re going to kill us both,” he guided them onto the highway.

“But what a way to go,” she laughed as they glided into the fading light.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *So the Ninja H2 doesn’t actually have a passenger seat but for the purposes of the story I chose to ignore this. Regular Ninjas do so it’s not, like, out of the question that Charlie had hers modified.


	18. Chapter 18

Nevada watched her in the ring, her feet moving quickly as she dodged the punch her opponent threw. She stepped to the side, spinning into a kick that caught the other woman in the stomach. The woman grabbed at Charlie, pulling her off balance and they fell together.

If someone had told him a month ago he would be at this underground fighting ring on a Saturday night, watching his girl beat the shit out of someone, he would have laughed in their face. The girls he was with were uniformly soft - all heels and lipstick and long hair that he could wrap in his fist and guide them to do whatever he wanted. They came to _him_ for protection.

Charlie had her knee hooked around the other woman’s neck, pulling her opponent under her body and she punched her in the stomach. The woman tapped on her thigh and Charlie moved back, letting her go.

Now that girl, she didn’t need his protection. Not from the world. It was almost… satisfying? To not be needed like that. He couldn’t remember the last time he wasn’t needed by someone, for something. Nevada the shipments are late. Nevada Diego is in trouble. Nevada I just need one more day. Nevada Nevada Nevada… it almost made him sick of hearing his name.

The woman on the floor had caught Charlie by the waist, dropping her hard to her back and he frowned, certain that wasn’t how this was supposed to work. She had tapped out. Charlie wrapped her legs around the woman’s middle - twisting underneath her as she dodged the heavy blows raining down on her face. She punched upward, kidney punches, but she couldn’t get enough momentum to make the woman stop. She did something he couldn’t quite see and both women were on the floor - arms wrapped around each others heads as they rolled. The men in the room loved it - calling out coarse encouragement.

The designated ref stepped in, tapping them on the shoulders and then - when that didn’t work - calling over two men to help him pull them apart. Charlie was shouting at the other woman, angry words he couldn’t make out over the roar of the crowd. The ref made a dismissive motion, taking the other woman’s hand and holding it high. A man near him cursed, tearing up the slip of paper in his hand. 

Charlie stormed out of the ring, cutting sideways through the crowd before shoving her way out of a side door. He followed, into the long corridor and then out into the dark, deserted alley beyond.

He leaned his shoulder against the brick of the wall, watching as she paced the asphalt in front of him. She was mumbling to herself, stretching her neck this way and that as her shoulders individually rose to meet it. Spinning suddenly on one foot her fist shot out, connecting to the dumpster and the sound echoed loudly in the empty space. Her eyes were squeezed shut and he could see the lines of tension practically radiating off of her. Her other fist blocked her face from his view, up as a defensive measure even though the dumpster was unlikely to hit her back. He supposed it was reflex, or habit.

“Charlie…” he called out, worried she was going to injure herself if she continued as she was.

“Don’t talk to me right now,” she bit out between clenched teeth.

“Excuse me?” He hooked his thumbs on his belt, sauntering across the alley towards her. She shook her head at him, her jaw clenched. “What did you just say?”

“Do not-“ she warned but he was on her, using his body to press her back against the cold metal.

“Don’t what?” he sneered down at her.

She closed her eyes, taking long deep breaths, “Back away Nevada. I’m not in the mood.”

He looked down at her, her tight shoulders, her breasts heaving, and felt himself grow hard. He slid his thigh between hers, “Or what?”

She punched him in the side, a quick jab - almost soft - and ducked to the left, catching his ankle with her foot and pulling him off-balance. When he stumbled she hit him again, a quick pop to the mouth and he tasted copper.

She stood a few feet away, her hands up but fingers loose and he spat blood on the concrete. “If you want me,” she snarled, “come and get me.” She beckoned with her fingers and he charged her. She tried to sidestep him again but he caught her by the waist - maybe she let him - slamming her against the wall hard enough that he heard the breath leave her body in a _whoosh_.

She hit him in the side again, hard enough to cause him to flinch away and he grabbed her hand, pinning it to the wall - then doing the same to the other. He felt her step onto his shoes, using him to gain height as she stood on her tiptoes and slipped her tongue into his mouth. He pressed her wrists to the bricks and sucked on her tongue, fucking into her mouth until she was moaning against him, the taste of his blood mingling on their lips. Then she bit him, her knee coming up at the same time and catching him, carefully he noted, in the thigh.

He gathered her wrists into one of his and put his other hand at her throat, pressing until her gasps for breath became silent, licking at her mouth until her struggles against him became weak. He eased up, noting the way her pupils dilated and she sucked in oxygen. He was holding her up by the throat, feeling her muscles strain under his palm. 

He pressed her to the wall. “Don’t move,” he ordered, letting go of her wrists to adjust their clothing. She lifted a leg to help him, all but climbing up his body so that he could guide his cock inside her. His mouth throbbed where she had hit him and the dull ache in his side told him he was going to have a beautiful bruise there tomorrow. And when she sank down against his cock, he pressed her back to the wall with his hands on her wrists and throat again and thanked his lucky stars for it.

He fucked her hard and fast, hearing her little cries as he did so. She rocked her hips against him, shifting herself so his cock slid against her clit. He let her, let her hold herself up to him with her thighs as he took what he wanted from her. When her cunt tightened around him he came with a hoarse shout, barely hearing her answering cries.

They came back down slowly, his forehead resting against hers. He let go of her wrists, reaching down to cup her ass in one hand and support her as she untangled her legs from his waist. He stroked a thumb against her neck, seeing the dark splotches of his handprint there. She leaned her head back further, dropping her hands to her side as he took a step back, slipping from between her thighs and letting her go completely.

He watched as she lifted a leg, slowly slipping her pants back on. Tucking himself away, running a hand through his hair, he studied her. When she finally opened her eyes he expected to see anger there. Maybe recrimination. But her eyes were soft, almost smiling.

She sighed, leaning to the wall. “I shouldn’t have hit you,” she whispered.

“No you should not have.”

He watched her smile, then laugh a little, pushing off the wall with a wince. Reaching one hand over her shoulder she gently touched her back, the fingers coming back lightly stained with blood. “Let me see,” he ordered turning her around. Her shoulder blades and exposed lower back were raw and red where the rough brick had abraded them, thin lines of blood showing in some places. He frowned as he soothed a hand against her, pulling back when she flinched slightly.

Turning back to him, she slipped her arms around his neck, resting her head against his shoulder and he quietly slid his arms around her waist - holding her close.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He didn’t know what to say to that.

 


	19. Chapter 19

Nevada looked up when she entered the room, “What are you doing here?”

“I was just visiting my baby,” Charlie told him, walking around the outside of the rug. She was wearing a button down shirt today, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. She seemed younger in it, softer somehow.

“You mean _my_ baby,” he corrected, raising one eyebrow.

She pouted at him, crossing to sit on the edge of the desk. Her jeans - always skin tight - looked soft and he lifted a hand to her thigh as she swung her legs next to him. “ _Our_ baby,” she smiled at him, “just let me take her out. She needs to run or she gets sad.” She stuck her lower lip out at him, “And then _I_ get sad.”

“Oh?” he leaned back in the desk chair, “And what do I get?”

She looked up and away from him as though considering it and he stroked his fingers along her leg as she thought, “I could offer to fuck you on her but we’ve already done that.”

“True.”

“I could offer to send you video of me touching myself and thinking of you, but I’ve already done that.”

He grinned, “Very true. Thank you for that again.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled at him. “We could get high and… no. I suppose there’s not a lot I _haven’t_ offered you.”

“Oh I can think of a few things,” he laughed, pulling her off the desk and into his lap. She giggled against his mouth and he kissed her deeply, settling her down so she straddled him. When she shifted down on him he moaned into her mouth, “You can’t stay, my business partner is in town. He’ll be here any minute.”

“Let him wait,” she murmured and she quickly undid the buttons of her shirt, her breasts covered by a bra for once. Red. He groaned, why did it have to be red? His hands lifted of their own volition, cupping her as she leaned back against the desk - watching him touch her.

Neither of them heard the door open, but the soft cough made her head turn and he glanced to the side to see Dominic standing there, a look of stunned surprise on his face.

“Charity?”

Nevada blinked, looking back in time to see her sheepish little wave, “Oh, hi Papí…”

 

* * *

 

Dominic had been shouting for the last ten minutes without stopping. At Charlie, at Nevada - at the walls, the air and now at God. 

“What did I do?” he yelled for the fourth time, “What did I do to deserve a daughter like this?”

Nevada closed his eyes, saying a silent prayer that the majority of the yelling seemed to be focused on her and not him. She hadn’t moved when Dominic had angrily strode into the room, Nevada had had to push her off his lap, motioning for her to button her shirt. She’d perched on the edge of the desk in front of him, doing up the middle two buttons but ignoring the rest. Nevada had stood up immediately, putting as much space between them as possible, but her bare stomach still showed where the shirt gaped open and the little charm on her navel had him distracted. Fuck, if he didn’t focus Dominic was going to murder him.

“What happened to Harvard?” the older man was shouting now.

Nevada looked sideways at Charlie - or well ‘Charity’ he supposed - and pursed his lips thoughtfully. He wondered what she was supposed to have been studying. “Oh please, I was there because you made me go. No one cared when I started skipping classes and then I realized that as long as you paid them they didn’t care if I was there or not.”

Dominic fumed at her, “Where is your mother?”

“Oregon, with grandfather. You know that.”

Dominic still looked ready to spit nails and he turned his attention to Nevada, “What were you doing to my daughter?” Nevada’s eyes went to her for help but she had her arms crossed, stubbornly glaring at a spot away from him.

“Nothing she didn’t ask for,” fuck that was the wrong answer. “Nothing she didn’t want,” _what the fuck_ Nevada, that was even worse. “I mean that it’s mutual. We both enjoy ourselves,” _Jesus_ , why didn’t he just give the man a play by play? Finally he settled on, “I am very kind to her.”

Charlie looked at him like he’d just lost his mind and he gave her a pleading look in return as Dominic started yelling again. “I saw what you were doing to her when I walked in, your hands all over her. You think you can cheapen her, use her like that?”

“Papí,” Charlie cut in. _Finally_. “Leave Nevada out of this, I seduced him.” Nevada nodded along, it wasn’t entirely untrue.

“What are you doing seducing anybody?”

“For fuck’s sake I’m not fifteen anymore Papí,” she walked over to him, placing a hand on his arm, “I love you, you know I do, but I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.”

“You don’t need to be mixed up with the likes of him.” Nevada would have taken offense but he could see the older man’s viewpoint. He wouldn’t want his own daughter fucking around with a guy like him either.

She leaned into her father, her voice lowering so that Nevada couldn’t hear and they seemed to argue some more. Finally, Dominic caught her to him in a big hug and she returned it, her feet lifting from the ground. When he set her down he pushed her to the door, “Go, Ramirez and I need to talk business.”

She patted him on the arm, “Fine, but don’t hurt him. I rather like him as he is.” She winked back over her shoulder at him and closed the door behind her.

“Let’s talk abut your intentions with my daughter Ramirez.”

He swallowed, hard.


	20. Chapter 20

He caught up to her at the back of the warehouse storage nearly an hour later. Among the low tables and boxes her bike was sitting - lean and ready to go somewhere but with no one to take her. Nevada’s men would barely even let her get close enough to touch her.

Charlie sighed, glancing up when she heard the metal door slam closed. Nevada’s eyes scanned the space, finally falling on her and he strode through the room, cutting through the cutter like a shark. She stood, watching him carefully, waiting for him to speak first.

“I thought I had told you not to lie to me anymore.” He was nearly to her, his quick steps slowing somewhat and she saw how tense his jaw was.

She backed away from him, taking one step for each of his. “I didn’t lie.”

He shook his head at her, stalking forward and she moved away. “Not this again. You lied by not telling me.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works.”

His eyes narrowed in her, “A lie by omission. It’s just like with the bike.”

“Oh come on that was different.”

“ _How_?”

She gave him a funny half smile with one eyebrow raised, “Because that was kinda fun?”

He growled.

She took cover behind a table, “Hey now, let’s be honest. That time on the bike was _fun_ , you have to admit that.”

He ducked left, and she went the other way, backing away again. “Stay still.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to strangle you,” he said, his face composed and perfectly serious.

“Then no, I’m good over here.”

He stopped, glaring at her as she stood about ten feet away.

“What did you and Papí talk about for so long?” she asked companionably - at least she thought so.

“He said he’d kill me if I hurt you.”

“Did he?” she smiled. “That was sweet of him.”

“I think it might be worth it.”

“Oh come on, you’re not really going to tell me it doesn’t turn you on a _little_? Fucking the boss’ daughter?”

She swore she could hear his teeth grinding, “He’s not my boss.”

“Close enough.”

“No, it’s _not_.” His fists clenched at his sides, “And where do you get off? Fucking around with me for the last few weeks? Were you laughing at me all this time? ‘Poor stupid Nevada’,” his voice was high, mimicking hers, “‘he doesn’t know who I am - I’ll just keep him leading him along - play with him.’”

“No-“

“Is the only thing you do is lie to me?” he cut her off and she stared at him.

“No,” she searched for words, “not the _only_ thing.” He stared back, crossing his arms over his chest.

She unbuttoned her shirt while he watched her, shrugging out of it and dropping it to the ground. Next she unhooked her bra and tossed it his direction which he caught with one raised eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

“Distracting you.”

He wadded the cloth up in his fist, “You can’t just fuck me every time I’m angry with you.”

She toed out of her low sneakers, kicking them at him before pushing her pants of her hips. He watched the movement and she turned her body to catch the light better. “Can’t I?”

“Charlie…”

She stepped back to a table, hopping to sit on it and leaning on her elbows. Spreading her legs she licked at her lips as she asked, “One quick fuck? Before you yell at me some more?”

His eyes were on her and she trailed a hand down between her legs, fingers gliding over her clit and she bit back a moan. She watched him cross the room to her, his hands slowly rising to the buttons of his shirt. She rubbed at herself slowly, not trying to hide the way her eyes roamed over his skin. His hands settled on her ankles, pulling her towards him roughly. He hooked her knees at his hips, her skin pressing against his. His hand trailed up her stomach, tweaking a nipple and watching her eyes close as he gently rolled it between two fingers. She sighed, rubbing herself harder under his ministrations. Abruptly he pulled her upright, turning her until she was face down on the desk. 

The metal was cool against her nipples, one of his hands hot on the small of her back as he pressed her down. She heard his belt buckle, his zipper, then the smooth head of his cock pushing against her pussy. She moaned, pressing backwards to him as he slid inside her until his hips touched hers. His hands pressed against her ribcage, holding her into the table as he began to move in sharp motions into her.

Every thrust pressed her thighs to the table, enough that she knew she’d have a line of bruises there later. She tried to reach underneath her, to her clit which was begging for more attention but he grabbed her wrist, twisting her arm up her back and pressing his palm into hers. She made a cry of protest but was only rewarded with her other arm being twisted up as well.

Pinned under him, captive, she felt every jerk of his body against hers. The trailing edges of his shirt caressed her skin and she shivered - going to her tiptoes to change the angle. He cursed as she did, moving even faster into her until she felt him shudder, his hands gripping her fingers for a long moment before he relaxed and stepped away from her.

She stayed like that for a moment, until she heard his belt again and then she slowly pushed herself up - turning, she stared at him in disbelief. “Is that it?”

His face was cold as he tucked his shirt into his pants. “If you’re going to use me I have no problem using you.” Her jaw dropped open as she stared at him. “Put your clothes on,” he said curtly, crossing to the door.

“Wait!” 

He stopped, his hand on the handle facing away from her.

“You’re right,” she swallowed, watching his shoulders, how tense he was. “You’re right I’m sorry. I should have…” she sighed, leaning back against the table, “I should have said something to you.”

He turned to her, leaning his shoulder against the door. He was angry, as angry as she thought she had ever seen him - even more than when he discovered she’d stolen his- _her_ bike. He didn’t say anything, hooking his thumbs into his belt loops as he watched her.

“I don’t date a lot,” she said, noting his raised eyebrow, “not that I’d call what we do _dating_ \- but I don’t usually spend a lot of time with people. With men. They find out about the fighting and they run. Or worse, they find out about Papí.” She laughed, the sharp sound seemed hollow even to her, “Men using me to get to him, to get a favor or to scare him. Do you know how many times I’ve been kidnapped?” She didn’t wait for his answer, “Six. So yes, I should have told you everything, I shouldn’t have lied to you. Or kept secrets. But all things considered can you really blame me?”

His face was expressionless as he stared at her, “Yes.”

She flinched at that, feeling tears well in her eyes. She spun away, pressing her palms to the table and blinking hard. By God she was _not_ going to cry for him. “ _Fuck_ ,” she muttered under her breath, “fine then. Whatever. Just go.”

The room was silent and she wiped one hand across her nose, sniffling a bit. After a minute had passed she felt his warm body against her back, his arms slipping around her waist as he pressed his face into her hair. “Don’t cry,” he whispered to her.

“I’m not,” she took a deep shuddering breath, wiping at the tears in her eyes. 

“Didn’t I just finish telling you not to lie to me?”

“ _Fuck_ ,” she bit out, “fuck, fuck, _fuck_.”

He turned her face to his, kissing the wetness against her cheek and she shut her eyes. “You should have told me,” he murmured into her skin, “I understand why you didn’t but you should have trusted me.”

She nodded dumbly, dropping her hands to clutch at his arm. 

“Is there anything, _anything_ else you need to tell me?”

She thought about it, pressing her fingers into his skin. “I don’t have any problems with an audience.”

“What?”

She smiled at his confused tone, “I told you once, I didn’t like an audience.” She shrugged, “I really don’t mind.”

He huffed against her, his laugh barely there, “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

She turned to him, feeling his clothes slide along her bare skin and pressed her face to his chest. “Nope, but as far as I know that’s the only thing.”

He cupped her face with his hands and kissed her. It was easy, tender - and everything they were not.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End.
> 
>  
> 
> Note on the Title: Comes from the Kenny Loggins song 'Danger Zone' - the full lyric is "The further on the edge, the hotter the intensity..." https://youtu.be/siwpn14IE7E
> 
> This is all of the Charlie and Nevada story I had. Much like 'Bought and Paid for' I had a specific set of scenarios I wanted to work through. I'm happy to take any and all Nevada related prompts (for this story or in general) but no promises.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> More stories by brandyllyn:  
> 'Debt Makes Promises' - Owing a favor to a known drug kingpin was hard enough, but when that person is Nevada Ramirez all bets are off. (Trouble in the Heights)  
> 'Let Live' - If he was being honest with himself, this woman scared the shit out of him (Trouble in the Heights)  
> 'Half Empty' - Sometimes your body is the only thing you have left to negotiate with. (Trouble in the Heights)  
> 'Bought and Paid For...' - To avoid going to a gala alone, Frederick Chilton procures the services of an escort. (Hannibal)  
> 'Time's Fool' - Chilton is confronted with a woman from his past, but will their unfinished business ruin him or save him? (Hannibal)  
> 'Good Man Feelin' Bad' - Rafael Barba meets an interesting woman at a gala. (Law & Order: SVU)


End file.
